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[GEEK RAGE] Mo Troper is mad as hell, and he's not going to take it anymore. What is "it," exactly? Well, what do you got? Jerkwad concert promoters with overinflated egos? Artists of medium talent thriving in a world of lowered standards? Maybe his own lame-ass friends, always looking for the next party when he just wants to go home and watch Star Wars? While his previous projects edged too close to emo revivalism for his own comfort, on his debut album under his own name, Troper repositions himself as Portland's angry young man, wringing out his spleen over classic, big-chord power pop that nods to the Raspberries and Rubinoos in its pleading melodies and Elvis Costello in its intellectual viciousness. "You're not smart, you're not funny/You're pretentious and humorless/But don't worry, you're still pretty," he howls on "Somebody Special," to an ex long out of earshot, his strained adolescent whine accompanied by only a low-pulsing bassline. It's the sort of hurtful thing you blurt out in a moment of resentment and feel bad about in the morning, but Troper is done disguising his worst impulses. "You're gonna be disappointed/When the paint starts peeling away," he sings on "Paint," a song he's said is about the exhaustion that comes from trying to conceal one's flaws. With Beloved, Troper makes no attempt to cover up the ugliest sides of himself. And you can't be disappointed with that.

A native Southern Californian, Arts & Culture Editor Matthew Singer ruined Portland by coming here in 2008. He is an advocate for the canonization of the Fishbone and Oingo Boingo discographies, believes pro-wrestling is a serious art form and roots for the Lakers. Unfortunately, he doesn't plan on leaving anytime soon.